..."Come," she said.  "We will help you now in your room."

        Oh, good, a nap, Alice sighed.  The bedroom was cool and serene, the large bed draped with mosquito netting.  Alice flopped onto the mattress with a voluptuous yawn. After a moment, she opened her eyes.  Three women looked down at her. She moved to the far edge of the bed to make room for her new sisters.  

      "Time for sleeping is later," Nela said crisply, striking her hands together in a businesslike slap.  "We must prepare you to be received in marriage."

       Alice reluctantly slid off the bed. There's information here I'm just not getting, she thought.  "So when is my wedding, exactly?" she asked. Nela flicked open the buttons of Alice's blouse while speaking as slowly as if she were talking to a simple-minded child.

       "You have traveled very far to marry my brother. I am preparing you in traditional ways only."  Nela pulled off Alice's blouse and the sisters-in-law whispered to each other. Nela said matter-of-factly, "We are to bathe you, adorn you in bridal sari, henna toes and fingers. You will have gifts of gold jewelry from Amma's treasures, though your family gives no dowry."  Alice watched her jeans vanish from her hips and allowed herself to be borne to the square concrete bathtub in the adjacent room.

         She watched like a voyeur as she was bathed and perfumed. The two sisters-in-law continued to whisper admiringly in Tamil.  Nela barked a sharp command now and then but otherwise the only other sound was water lapping against Alice's body.

         Alice asked Nela, "What are your sisters-in-law saying to each other?  Do you bathe each other often?"  

         Nela's color deepened as she raised her sharp eyes to Alice. "They are astonished at your fine skin and your delicate frame." I see, thought Alice. They assumed my delicate frame would be swollen with a pregnancy. Alice bit her lip. Nela tossed her head back and helped her guest from the tub.

        The women held up the wedding sari of red Banares silk edged with gold embroidery. Alice exhaled with sensual pleasure. She hurried into the half-slip and traditional blouse. She wanted to feel that fine silk on her skin.

         Her critical artist's eye surveyed her own magnificence in the ornate, wheeled mirror.  The color of the silk made her exhausted skin luminous and gave depth to her blue eyes.  The silk felt heavy and old and carried within it numerous perfumes.  Alice glanced at the women's reflections behind her.  They were speechless, her handmaidens.  

      "So, Nela, who wore this before me?  I mean, it must have a history, right?" 

      "It was our mother's and our grandmother's," Nela replied, smoothing the heavy folds. 

      "Oh, that's so cool!  I guess I'm supposed to hand it down to my daughter some day, right?" Nela cringed. Alice saw it, tried to repair the damage.  "Or, maybe you'll wear it when you get married," she offered like an olive branch.  Nela's dark eyes narrowed, and with a stream of Tamil words, turned her back and marched out of the room.  The heavy door slammed shut. "What's wrong?  What did I say?" Alice beseeched the remaining two women.  They had no answers for her.

       Alice sank down on the bed and began to cry. Four hands immediately tugged her to her feet. The women showed her an exquisite set of gold bangles and Alice distracted herself with the deep color of twenty-four karat gold against her slim arms. The women tried to explain something to Alice, pointing to their own armfuls of jewels.  But it was in the wrong language, in a strange country, and Alice was far too tired to guess anymore.  She began to cry again.

       The women rallied to her side with a selection of diamond nose-rings and made soothing, clucking noises alongside unfamiliar words.    

        One woman gently removed the gold ring that already glinted in Alice's nostril.  When Alice saw the symbol of how far she had gone and would go to please Ramesh, she gulped back more sobs.       

        The two women arranged Alice in front of the mirror.  She looked at her reflection as a Hindu bride, dried her tears and began to pantomime Ram's reaction to her nose-piercing episode at the American hippie head-shop. She imitated Ram's posture and head-shaking gestures so well that the sisters tittered, even though they really didn't understand the joke. 

        Nobody noticed that Nela had re-entered the room, calm now, and bearing more jewelry.  Alice went on, oblivious and unfettered, "So I go, you blow my mind! Don't be so uptight, man. It's just a fad."  

        Nela's reflection appeared like a phantom in the mirror.  "My brother's opinion has never shifted due to expediency."  Alice's eyes went big and round and her mouth tried to find words, any words. "What we can do with such a stubborn man?"  Nela clucked as she lowered the noose of diamonds and rubies around Alice's neck.   

       There was only a beat or two of silence before the sisters' voices rose excitedly by the bedroom window. Inexplicably, Nela's expression suddenly grew gentle, flowed into something generous and loving. She pulled Alice toward the window. The other women kept the bride hidden from behind the curtains, letting her see only out of a protected corner of the glass. Someone passed below, riding in a flower-laden open car of unidentifiable vintage. A long moment stuttered by before Alice recognized Ramesh as the man in the car. He had garlands of flowers wrapped around his neck, religious markings on his forehead, and his hair had been cut short.  Alice gasped and she grabbed Nela's arm. 

      "We joke that Ram's long hair mistakes him for the traveling music teacher," the sister said.
      "But he promised he'd never cut it!"   Alice whimpered.
      "Appa told him it would not be proper for the bridegroom."  Nela's eyes glinted.  But as she wiped Alice's tears away,     careful not to smudge her kohl, her voice softened. "This is the old custom: the day before the wedding, the groom promenades in the street.The bride can then see her first glimpse of him. The reception follows and the bride gives gifts to the new family. In a case such as this, no dowry exists, so we give the car- riding a nod only.  After all, it is not the first glimpse you are having of your new husband, and I suspect Ramesh does not suddenly care for so much customs."
        You people haven't got a clue, Alice thought. Taking a deep breath, she marched into her wedding with the two giggling sisters-in-law and the icy, posture perfect Nela.